I’m fucking exhausted. Beaten down and a little defeated. Like I’ve lived two lifetimes already, and hating them both equally.How did I get here?I used to have it all. Everything I ever wanted, both on a professional and personal level. Until one mistake cost me everything. The worst thing is, I have no one to blame but myself. I was too cocky. Years of successfully taking down criminals and making sure justice was served had me starting to believe I was untouchable. I got careless and ended up paying the ultimate price. Now, here I am. Alone, in a ramshackle log cabin in bumfuck nowhere. Engaging in a silent stare down with the very same species that almost caused me to drive my truck into a tree on my way in.
Fifteen years in law enforcement. I survived situations most people wouldn’t have made it out of alive, let alone without lasting damage. Physically speaking, that is. I’m well aware my mental state is an entirely different animal. I’ve been shot twice, stabbed once and survived a goddamn explosion. Death by unstable mammal wasn’t something I saw coming. I can picture the inscription on my headstone now.
Here lies Cole Beckett Foster. He faced an army of adversaries, but a hoofed ruminant was his undoing.
Snorting out a humorless laugh, I push to my feet. I’m self-aware enough to know that my dark thoughts tend to get the best of me if I allow myself to sit idle for too long. Staying busy seems to be the only surefire way to keep the demons at bay. May as well stretch my legs and get the lay of the land while I’m at it.
I take the time to change my shirt, slap on some deodorant, and slide a ball cap onto my head before barging out the front door. Maybe a walk to the lake will lift my spirits and make me forget about my nightmarish accommodation. I skip off the porch with a new spring in my step, determined to turn this day around, but come to an abrupt halt when I spot the large figure on the deck straight across from mine. Tinkerbell warned me about her exhibitionist guest, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight that greets me.
“Howdy, neighbor,” he hollers around a wide smile while he lounges in his Adirondack chair, legs spread wide and limp dick on full display. His saggy balls rest comfortably on the wooden slats of his seat, almost hidden below his enormous, sunburned beer-belly. Unfortunately for my poor eyes, his sweat-drenched gut isn’t quite big enough to hide the crown jewels entirely. I make every effort to keep the distaste off my face, but try as I might, it’s a struggle.
“Afternoon,” I grunt, refusing to let my attention drift below his waistline, and doing a pretty good job of it, too. But when he reaches down and brazenly scratches his scrotum—all while staring me dead in the eye—my gaze automatically follows.
“Nice to see a friendly face. I’ve been waiting for a neighbor to keep me company. Beer?” he asks, flipping open the lid of the red cooler resting at his feet before he thrusts a can of Bud Light my way.
“Maybe another time,” I say, giving him what I hope is a regretful look. “I just got here and want to familiarize myself with the place before the sun sets.”
“Ah, one of those guys,” he drawls, cracking one open himself. He waits for the can to stop hissing and takes a generous sip while I just stand there, dying for him to elaborate. This ought to be good.
“You know?” he continues. “One of them control freaks. Always sitting with their back to the wall. Let me guess. Ex-military? Some kind of career in law enforcement?”
Damn.His balls may be fried, but his cognitive faculties don’t seem to suffer the same affliction. I’m surprised. I consider myself a pretty good judge of character—have to be in my chosen career—and at a first glance, I could’ve sworn buddy was clueless.
“You got me,” I say with an indulgent smile, as I track a couple of mosquitoes circling his head. He seems to be totally unbothered.
“Does that not bug you?”
“Nah. I mean, you guys can be a bit abrasive and a stickler for the rules, but I’m an easy-going guy. I get along with almost everyone.”
“I was talking about the insects?” I chuckle, twirling a finger in the air. His cheeks heat with obvious embarrassment, but he recovers quickly.
“Nah, I grew up on a lake. Been around these suckers my whole life.” The big man shrugs, gulps down the remainder of his drink, and crushes the metal between two meaty hands the size of dinner plates. “The trick is not to shower daily and to eat plenty of garlic. That’ll keep ’em at bay.”
Them and every other living creature within a five-mile radius, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, but I gotta get going.”
“Don’t let me keep you. I’d give you a tour, but these old knees aren’t what they used to be,” he chuckles, pointing at the joints in question.
“That’s alright. I’m a big boy and I like my solitude,” I say, making it clear I’m not the type of person who enjoys shooting the shit and shot-gunning beers with the friendly nudist next door.
“If you ever need a cold one, you know where to find me,” he supplies, already fishing for another drink. “Name’s Dave, by the way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, well aware that I failed to offer my name in return. I don’t give a shit if that makes me seem rude or unapproachable. I didn’t come here to make friends.
Without another word, I follow the sign that reads,To the lake, and make my way toward the water. The well-maintained gravel trail soon turns into a man-made dirt path, leading through a dense growth of small trees and bushes, and is just wide enough for a single person to pass through.
I follow the trail for about five minutes before I emerge onto a long stretch of beach. Halting my steps, I keep my head on a swivel as I take in my surroundings. As far as first impressions go, I have to admit, I’m impressed. Miles of rugged shoreline run along a sizable lake, which is nestled in a valley surrounded by majestic mountains. The sun hangs high in the sky, reflecting off the crystal-clear water, and I don’t know how else to say this, but the air smells clean.
Tilting my face toward the sky, I close my eyes and listen to the birds circling overhead. For the first time since exiting my vehicle, I feel like this could actually be good for me. I may have been catfished by the resort’s website, but you simply can’t beat this view. Besides, I survived places a lot more hostile than a ’70s hunting shack with questionablecarpet stains.
The beach is deserted, which is just how I like it, and I take a left, moving closer to the water’s edge, where I plop my ass down in the sand. Pulling my legs toward my chest, I rest my forearms on my knees and look out over the hauntingly still body of water. And then I simply sit, soaking up the tranquility—barely moving and lost in my own thoughts—until a noise at my back jerks me out of my serene state. I glance over my shoulder and focus on the spot I think the commotion is coming from. Then, the foliage moves, and my body tenses, bracing for an oncoming attack.
My first afternoon in Moose Harbor and I’m about to become a tasty treat for a goddamn mountain lion. Or maybe I’m lucky and it’s just a bear. Do black bears eat people? I seem to remember a movie where that was the case, but I’m pretty sure they pose no danger to humans, for the most part. It’s the grizzlies you need to look out for, and as far as I know, they don’t have those on the peninsula. Doesn’t mean I’m particularly looking forward to coming face-to-face with its cousin.
A bear’s a fucking bear, and the spray I purchased in preparation for this exact scenario currently lies at the bottom of my duffel in my cabin. Just when I’m starting to get nervous, the underbrush parts like the Red Sea and what looks to be a small horse bursts forth, making a beeline straight for me. I try to scramble to my feet, but I’m not fast enough. The large animal collides with my chest,pins me to the ground with its enormous front paws, and stares down at me with a lolling tongue. I swear to God, the creature grins at me, before it dives in and licks the entire length of my face, leaving a trail of drool behind.
“Fuck,” I bark, turning my head to avoid a second swipe. I grab the huge dog by the cheeks and push him away from me, attempting to get out from under his body. Then I hear it.
